Crime is Running Out
by trenzallure
Summary: The Doctor interrupts a stand off between Batman and The Joker.


''Not a bad share, huh?'' said a husky voice from within a thick balaclava.

''Not bad at all,'' came a reply from an almost identical source, though the second figure in the small, metal bank vault was slightly shorter than the first. ''What do you plan on doing with your hundred?''

''Hundred? He told me fifty thousand! He said even shares!''

''That's what I got. Even hundreds!''

The first man, swift as a darting fox, drew a silent-barrelled revolver from within his padded black overcoat and pointed it at the second man's head.

''Something's not right here,'' the now armed crook spat, ''Take off your mask,''

The defenceless criminal stood frozen. The gun was jabbed forward. ''Do it!'' repeated the first felon.

''Okay, okay! G-get that thing out of my f-face!'' he stammered. Hands shaking, he removed the balaclava from his head and hung it by his side, revealing a pale, sweating face.

''What the hell is this?'' he uttered, curious anger echoing throughout the vault, ''you're with Leone's mob! He said this was an all Dante heist.'' He cocked the six-shooter with this last, belted word.

''Wait. Wait, wait. Can't you see? He set us up! Played us against each oth-'' His last word unfinished; a bullet lodged between his eyes, the man dropped flimsily to the cold floor.

The lobby was silent as the night outside, and if a pin was dropped, it would have been engulfed in debris seconds later as a hole was blown with an almighty crash through the back wall. Through it stepped the hoarse-voiced member of Dante's mob, along with two other similarly dressed thugs, one tall and lanky, the other short and bulky.

''That's the lot,'' he sighed, referring to the bags stashed with money that lay on the ground beside him. ''You take care of the rest of Leone's crew?'' he added to the others.

''They won't be seeing past their eyelids, let alone the outside of the vault I dumped them in.'' replied the taller man.

''Will you two quit yammering?'' chimed in the third, shorter criminal, who was shifting the bags. ''Come here and give me a hand.''

''How about a fist?'' a rough, grizzly voice interrupted their conversation, followed by a black-gloved, clenched hand which struck the short ruffian in the jaw. He keeled over backwards and slid across the slippery, marble surface of the lobby floor. The other crooks jumped around to defend themselves but were too slow. The newcomer, heavily outfitted in a black, armoured suit, a dark, flowing cape and wearing a cat-like mask that covered all but his eyes and mouth, swiftly disabled them from their weapons and with a thud, slammed them to the ground, unconscious.

As he stood back to admire his handiwork, a hushed cackle sounded from the edge of the room, chased by faint applause. From the shadows stepped a man in a purple, velvet overcoat and green vest; his face covered clumsily with white paint; a scarred smirk of red cutting out of his lips; his eyes heavily tinted with smudged black rings and his hair tinged with lurid green. He crept up to the man in black and, with a skip, raised his mauve-gloved hands cheerily in the air before lunging and wrapping them around the vigilante's throat.

Unfazed, the black-suited man remained motionless as if to see what events would unfold. His curious enemy grinned murderously before jerking away towards the bags of money.

''What's it gonna take, huh?'' the villain snarled, curling his tongue across his bottom lip as he dragged the bags across the lobby towards the exit. ''How long before you snap? How _long_ before that impartial foot of yours slips... off the edge and _down_ into mayhem?''

His scowl echoed around the foyer, bouncing back with twice the sneer but still the caped crusader failed to waver. The thief dropped the bags and scurried back, his face almost touching the mask of his adversary.

''I find that-'' he murmured before the masked man's head collided with his own with such ferocity that he staggered back several feet.

''You can play your games,'' came a growl from beneath the mask. ''It makes keeping you here for Gordon that much easier.''

An unnerving howl of laughter shot out from behind the criminal's scarred mouth.

''Gotham's dark knight, taking orders, like a common civilian.''

''There's more to justice than following a plan.''

''But what good is justice when the plan _fails_?''

''Your ego has held you here this long.''

''Right as always,'' his red lips smacking together in concession. ''I'll get out of your hair.''

He made to move away but was pulled back by a tight grip on his collar.

''Not so quick.'' said his gruffly voiced captor, as a grinding roar sounded from what appeared to be every corner of the lobby. ''That'll be Gordon now, with the full force of the Gotham police department.''

The vigilante grasped the purple coat with both hands and reeled his foe in.

''Joke's over.'' he spoke with an ounce of arrogance seeping through the corner of his curved lips. Suddenly, a large blue box burst into the air at the edge of the bank, spinning violently as it skimmed its way across the floor, slamming into the man in black, whose grasp faulted as he was sent skidding across the room, a trail of blood following in his wake. The blue box thrashed over to the other side of the atrium, landing horizontally against the side of the building, sending a crack shooting up the wall.

As the man left behind stared in wonder, a door opened from the top of the toppled box. A pair of hands reached out and clutched the edge, hoisting up a ruffled head of hair and the cheery face it belonged to.

''Hello!'' The Doctor uttered merrily. ''Sorry about the mess. New joystick. Needs a bit of wearing down.''

The criminal was still unmoving. The Doctor looked back down into the TARDIS.

''Amy! Rory! Are you okay?''

''We're right here.'' said Rory from The Doctor's other side. The gangly Rory and the stunning Amy were leaning the edge of the TARDIS doors, their hair dishevelled but otherwise fine.

''Whoa.'' said Amy, shocked and wide-eyed at the appearance of the man in the lobby, who promptly picked up his stash of money and hurried out of the bank.

''Was that-?'' said Rory, puzzled. The Doctor leaped onto the shiny floor.

''I thought it might have been the crash that did something to my head but then I remembered how silly it was to think my head could make a mistake.'' said The Doctor with a grin and a twirl back to face his companions.

''Save the arrogance for when there's trouble, Doctor.'' sighed Amy, exiting the TARDIS in the same manner as its owner, her husband close behind.

''So it was-?'' continued Rory.

''Don't get excited Rory it was probably just some joker pretending to be well… The Joker.'' said The Doctor, smirking. He noticed a newspaper laying on the ground some metres away and shimmied over to pick it up. As he read his face sunk.

''Or… not.'' he said with an air of bewilderment, looking up from the paper to notice the figure lay dead across the hall.

''What is it, Doctor?'' asked Amy. Abruptly, she noticed the man too and let out a slight gasp.

The Doctor dropped the newspaper to the ground, his eyes bright with confusion. The headline read:

GOTHAM FALLING TO ANARCHY

''Unless I'm wrong,'' he uttered, as the three travellers stared at the body in awe, ''and I _very_ rarely am… We just killed Batman.''


End file.
